


King's Consort

by afterandalasia



Category: Aladdin (1992)
Genre: Accidental Incest, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Community: disney_kink, Father/Son Incest, Kidnapping, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, Thief Aladdin (Disney)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:05:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterandalasia/pseuds/afterandalasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They do not find the Oracle at the wedding. Cassim decides to take the groom away as a consolation prize.</p>
            </blockquote>





	King's Consort

**Author's Note:**

> From the [prompt](http://disney-kink.livejournal.com/361.html?thread=2220137) at the Disney Kink Meme. In full:
> 
>  
> 
> _"Cassim doesn't find out that Aladdin is his son. He proceeds to bed the handsome stranger and make the boy his consort."_

A blow to the head renders the boy unconscious. Grabbing him by his collar, Cassim hauls the limp figure onto the back of the elephant with him, the oracular staff warming to the touch of his hand. By the time the boy comes round again, he is bound and slung over the back of a horse, and they are well on their way back to the cave.  
  
Saluk looks at him in disgust. "At least tell me that this was not for the sake of the boy."  
  
"A bonus, Saluk," Cassim replies, even as the boy begins to threaten through the gag between his lips, struggle through the ropes around his limbs. Cassim draws his horse closer to swat at the boy with the flat of his hand, warning rather than hurting. "Stop that! The most you'll do is fall and get a faceful of sand for your troubles."  
  
The boy treats him to one of the most venomous glares Cassim has seen in many a year, and that is something after half a lifetime with the Forty Thieves. With a roll of his eyes, Cassim moves back towards the front of the column, and prepares to part the seas that keep them from their hideaway.  
  
They can deal with the boy later.  
  
  
  
  
  
The boy, it transpires, refuses to be addressed as such and insists, to howls of laughter from the other thieves, on being called Aladdin. Amused, Cassim humours him, if truth be told more interested in the way that his face flushes with anger, the high cheekbones and mass of dark hair.  
  
There have, once or twice, been women among the Forty Thieves. Women with balls greater than the men they walked amongst, and skills in theft likewise. But there had always been something desperate about them, and they had not tended to last long. In any case, whilst they had been there they had not cared to share their beds, and Cassim had neither forced himself upon them nor allowed any of his men to do so.  
  
He has never cared what the men did to relieve themselves. There are whores a-plenty in the lands to which they travelled, and though their willingness might be bought it is there nonetheless. More than once, a particularly pleasing young man might find himself not only a member of the Forty Thieves, but capable of earning some power, or at least influence, by offering their asses and mouths to the highest bidders. But there have been none of those for a while, either, and Cassim would not risk allowing another to have influence over him by doing the same.  
  
And yet... there is this boy. For the first time in a while, Cassim feels the stirrings of desire. He is still looking on, thoughtfully, as Saluk strides over and grabs him roughly by the shoulder.  
  
"I hope you have some plan for the boy, Cassim. Otherwise he is an intruder, and you know what that means." Saluk clenches his fist, exposing the bronze claws that extend from between his knuckles, but Cassim turns to face him without fear.  
  
"You did not see Tarif felled by the guards? We need another member to ensure our numbers stay strong."  
  
"What proof have you that he would even be of use as a thief? I do not fancy seeing my work go to feed some slip of a boy."  
  
"I will never join the Forty Thieves!" Aladdin is shouting, and for all of his pretty features Cassim wants to clout the boy. "I will see to it that you, you--"  
  
"What, boy?" Cassim snaps, turning. "You will defeat all thirty-nine of us with your hands still bound and no weapons on you? In your Princeling wedding finery? Do not be a fool. Besides, Saluk," he turns back to his second in command, "if he is of no use, then we can kill him easily enough. Perhaps even ransom his body to the Sultan."  
  
This gets some more approval from the men, who always did have their tendencies to lean towards Saluk's way of thinking. Cassim wishes that he could make them understand that just because they are _thieves_ , they do not have to be murderers."  
  
He grabs the boy by the shoulder and hauls him away before Saluk can change the mood of the cavern again. At least, as King of Thieves, he can claim some privacy from the masses.

 

 

 

"Now, boy," he says, throwing Aladdin to the ground once again. "Are you going to behave yourself, or am I going to have to leave you bound for a while longer?"  
  
Aladdin has the shadow of a bruise above his right eye. It doesn't sully his appearance, but it must sting, and Cassim fetches a bowl of cool water and a cloth for it.  
  
"Don't flinch," he says, scowling, as the boy does so. "I'm trying to do something for you, you fool."  
  
"You could have done me the favour of not kidnapping me," Aladdin snaps.  
  
So there is some fire in him. Cassim gives an unimpressed snort as he wipes the sand and dust from the boy's face. "You fight with spirit, and that is something that few of my men can claim. I honestly think that you'd do well among us."  
  
"Kidnapping me from my _wedding_."  
  
For a moment, Cassim pauses. He remembers his wedding to Mushira, how happy they had been, how quickly things had fallen apart. Then, with a shake of his head, he resumes his work until Aladdin tosses his head to throw away the gentle hands.  
  
"Believe me, I've done you a favour there, too. I've yet to see a love match that didn't turn to ill-will before the end."  
  
Aladdin struggles, lapsing into mutinous silence, and with a look of disgust Cassim lets him be. If he cannot yet understand how lucky he is to have met the Forty Thieves and live, it will probably not be too long before he does so.  
  
  
  
  
  
At first he refuses the food and water Cassim offers him, and promises such violence that Cassim dare not undo the knots that hold him. "It is your choice," Cassim reminds him, every time, and Aladdin snarls and spits in response.  
  
After two days, though, he breaks, and Cassim lets him drink water and finally, with a knife in one hand, releases Aladdin's hands that he might feed himself. He devours his food like a starving beast, and Cassim watches with regretful, knowing eyes.  
  
"You've gone hungry before."  
  
Aladdin pauses only just long enough to reply, "Most of the people I've ever met have," before lifting the bowl to his lips and simply drinking the rest of the stew.  
  
And there, _there_ is the twinge in Cassim's memory that has been bothering him ever since he caught sight of the boy for the first time. Yes, Aladdin might fight as well as Cassim, but his movements are as graceful as Mushira's. And then there is the name; across twenty years and more, Cassim cannot forget the name that he gave his son.  
  
_Aladdin_.  
  
But his Mushira and his Aladdin are both long gone, and this boy wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and glaring with the slightest lessening of the grudge in his eyes is neither of them.  
  
Cassim picks up the bowl and turns away. He almost misses the mutter of: "Thank you." from behind him.  
  
It makes him smile.

 

 

 

Saluk likes to attack the other men apparently for the fun of it. Whilst fights and squabbles are part of everyday life in their cave, especially as they plan their next ventures, When he tries the same trick on Aladdin, however, he receives a beating that he will undoubtedly not forget for many a moon, and the floor itself seems to rock with laughter as the great scowling hulk attempts to disentangle himself from the carpet he is wrapped in and the pot that has been jammed over one of his feet.  
  
Aladdin spits a peach pit onto the floor as he saunters away. He is fitting in surprisingly well.  
  
There is, of course, still something haunted in his eyes. He speaks of the Princess Jasmine, of his love for her, and Cassim is torn between sympathy and envy and anger all at the same time. He blames it on remembering the last night, the last argument, that he had with Murisha, and not wanting the boy to face the same, inveitable, pain when he realises how fickle love can be.  
  
That night, Cassim and Aladdin fight once again, over love and hate and loveless desperation, and before either of them is quite prepared for it they break their argument with a kiss, hot and fierce, Aladdin's hands clutching at Cassim's chest, his arms wrapping around the boy in a crushing hold.  
  
They struggle with each other even as they find themselves in bed, hands tearing at clothes, skin on hot skin and panting lustful breaths. A fight for dominance; Cassim wins; and yet Aladdin grunts and suppresses moans and whispers, 'Oh Allah, _yes_ ,' when he feels fingers stretching him, a slick of warm lamp-oil against his skin, the shaft that follows.  
  
Both of their hands clench in the blankets, Cassim alternately kissing and biting Aladdin's shoulders as their bodies come together. Aladdin trembles, but pleads for more, insistently, his hips rising to meet Cassim's, hair thrown back from his face as the expression of ecstasy finds him.  
  
It seems to last forever, and is over too soon, and then Aladdin rolls back and kisses him deeply again in the taste of sweat and desire. Cassim feels as if he is dangerously close to trusting the boy, and that would be a step too much for a man who is King among Thieves, but this... this is perfection, everything, and a kiss is just enough.


End file.
